


i'll paint the sky for you

by orphan_account



Category: All Time Low (Band), Fall Out Boy, Waterparks (Band)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety, Awsten needs a hug, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Cigarettes, Comfort, Concerts, Cutting, Depression, Dissociation, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everyone Is Gay, First Love, First Times, Flashbacks, Friendship/Love, Gaslighting, Healing, High School, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Loneliness, Love, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pete Wentz's Suicide Attempt (Best Buy Incident), Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Geoff, Rape, Recovery, Relapse, Safety, Sleepovers, Slow Updates, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempts, Trauma, abusive household, and personal, awsten is me, bridges, early morning conversations, happiness, music is their therapy, please bear with me, this is dark, vent vent vent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-18 19:52:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15493425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "years of abuse, wrong side of the tracks,she offered me a vodka cran, asked me if I had a plan"// in which awsten lives in an abusive household and no one cares enough to look beyond the facades of his home and in which his friends save him from himself and the scarecrow.//and in which awsten falls for geoff, who has his own dark past but finds himself in love with a boy, who is a little younger, yet too much like himself.





	i'll paint the sky for you

**Author's Note:**

> hi i hope this fic actually gets finished this time, unlike my old frerard which is discontinued. updates for this will be slow because this fic is a vent fic and i have a fuckton going on and am struggling with motivation at the moment. im sorry. please bear with me
> 
> comments and kudos for this are appreciated v much and make my heart :^)
> 
> love you xx

**trigger warning: nightmares, alcohol mention, childhood sexual abuse.**

awsten was trembling, he was terrified. his bed sheets were sticky with sweat and tears and blood, blood at the hands of the scarecrow that had crept into his bedroom in the dead of the night, under the guise of caring after awsten’s part time alcoholic, part time chaotic-abusive father. he wanted birdie, where was birdie where was he where was he.

a broken sob escaped the his mouth, he had to stay quiet in case the scarecrow heard his breathing again and did bad things that HURT. the small boy with the pastel hair, flinched as footsteps, drunken footsteps approached the door.

“alex?” awsten was staying the night at his friend’s house, he let him sleep under his bed because he knew about what the scarecrow had done to him, he knew of the shadows and demons lurking in his veins and deep deep deep in his bones, deeper than anyone cared enough to look it seemed. “is that you?” he whimpered out, trying to ground himself and prepare for the sunny glow of his friend’s face late at night.

* * *

and then the door opened and awsten woke up crying into his pillow again, and before he knew it, alex was holding him and stroking his hair and keeping his friend safe. “hey aws, it’s me, it’s alex baby it’s alex.”

“alex?” his voice was choked with tears and terror. “did- did- i have a n-ni-nightmare again?” awsten growled at himself, clenching his fists tight enough that his fingernails drew blood. because of fucking course he had to stutter now didn’t he?

“yes you did baby,” alex whispered into his friend’s ear. “but it’s okay i’m here, i’ve got you.” awsten curled up against his friend, desperate for some kind of human contact that wouldn’t hurt. awsten tried to calm himself as alex wrapped lanky, gentle arms around him; regulating his breathing.

“i love you alex.” the pastel boy whispered, trying not to cry as he felt so very loved, more so than he ever had in a lifetime, in forever.

“i love you too awsten, i love you too.” alex helped the younger curl up in bed, staying beside him to make sure his friend found some sleep, some peace and serenity - which was the very least he deserved after all. the two boys were very affectionate, for a few years when they were small children, rumours had spread that the two were together. when the truth itself was far more, average. they were just friends, that was all.

because alex gaskarth was sixteen and very much in love with jack barakat, and awsten knight, a small, shaky fifteen year old had never known love. let alone friendship, pure, undiluted friendship as was theirs.

* * *

jack had glued glow in the dark stars on alex’s ceiling, and they were at their most visible at 2am, just like they were right now.

“alex?” alex hmmed his soft response, holding his friend closer, keeping him safe.

“i miss birdie.” awsten’s voice was sad, sad for the boy who used to build treehouses with him, sad for the boy who left one day and never come back. they’d been so small, awsten, a soft six year old and birdie, an eight year old who tried to protect the younger the best he could. the two boys had never formally introduced themselves, awsten had always struggled with words and found himself stuttering and stammering regularly now. he knew the boy’s name began with a g or a j of some sort. but they’d always been birdie and bumblebee to each other growing up.

* * *

birdie had soft brown eyes that crinkled when he laughed, he had the most brilliant smile. however sometimes his eyes went dark and sad. and whenever birdie’s eyes had gone sad, awsten would climb on his lap and snuggle the older boy close, stroking his dark, too-floppy hair. awsten still remembered how his friend’s hair felt in between his small bloody fingertips. he remembered how they held hands and how safe and secure the two boys felt with each other. they would hide in bookshops until the sun rose, reading and laughing and squealing in delight and happiness.

* * *

awsten remembered one night, after the scarecrow was finished with him, and it hurt, and the fingermarks streaked around his small throat had soon faded to nothing but invisible, birdie was waiting against the wall outside his house. and awsten had burst into tears, shaking and small and bleeding from down there.

he’d curled up against birdie and the boy with the too-soft, too-floppy dark hair had held awsten and pressed a soft, platonic kiss to his now-patchy head of brown hair. the scarecrow had obviously pulled some out, in a feat of. well, birdie figured out what had happened from the way awsten was holding his hands over his head in a defensive way. his voice was careful and choked with tears and he raised glazed over eyes to birdie’s chocolate ones.

* * *

“please don’t hurt me.”

and birdie shook his head, whispering five words that awsten needed to hear so badly. “i’ll never hurt you bumblebee.”

and somewhere along the line, birdie disappeared, and the little bumblebee was alone all over again.


End file.
